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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908927">after the army</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderations/pseuds/alderations'>alderations</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober/Mechtober 2020 [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (In Space) - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandonment, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Explosives, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Rose Reds, War, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:01:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908927</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderations/pseuds/alderations</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stay here, keep watch, and don’t leave your post.”</p><p>The Toy Soldier salutes, its elbow swinging outside of its control, and then the Rose Reds take off down the hill and it’s alone again. They won’t be coming back, but that’s okay! It’ll miss them, sure, but the Rose Reds are very similar characters after a while, and another set will surely be along to relieve it of duty before it can even blink. Well, it can’t blink at all, but that’s neither here nor there.</p><p>(Whumptober Day 8: abandoned/isolation)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nastya Rasputina &amp; The Toy Soldier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober/Mechtober 2020 [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950916</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>after the army</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Stay here, keep watch, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>leave your post.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Toy Soldier salutes, its elbow swinging outside of its control, and then the Rose Reds take off down the hill and it’s alone again. They won’t be coming back, but that’s okay! It’ll miss them, sure, but the Rose Reds are very similar characters after a while, and another set will surely be along to relieve it of duty before it can even blink. Well, it can’t blink at all, but that’s neither here nor there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few measly rations were left behind, as well as a crate of explosives that the Toy Soldier has permission to use if it ends up being ambushed by enemy soldiers. This strikes it as a strange tactic, but it’s not an officer yet, at least this time around, so it doesn’t get to make those calls. Even the most experienced Rose Reds don’t know how close they are to the end of the war. There will be no need for explosives, no need for </span>
  <em>
    <span>them, </span>
  </em>
  <span>after the end of this long and miserable day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the distance, a streak of red flashes as a few of them hop over a trench and continue on toward enemy lines. They’ve been good friends to the Toy Soldier. They treat it like a person, which it’s not, but even a toy can appreciate the sentiment! They enjoy its bizarre humor and its endlessly random knowledge, and if they’ve ever noticed that it’s made of wood rather than biosynthetic material, they don’t comment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, after today, it’ll miss them. It’s been a part of a whole for so many years now, marching and fighting and killing alongside a million of the same faces, and it realizes that even if it could never be one of them, it has taken after them in every way that its unchanging self will allow. It’ll carry the memory of what it’s like to be a Rose Red long after the rest of them have been decommissioned or slaughtered on the battlefield.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The daylight fades almost as fast as the soldiers’ backs traipsing over the horizon, and the Toy Soldier is alone in the dark for the first time in many, many years. It’s not afraid of the dark, or anything else for that matter, because those are human emotions that it just doesn’t feel! A part of it wishes that it could at least turn around and watch the sunset. Maybe if it convinces its clockwork that keeping a lookout involves </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>directions, not just staring toward enemy lines… but it’s no use. The orders were just precise enough to keep it looking this way, toward the dusk illuminated only by occasional bombs and gunfire. Because of that, it doesn’t see the stray shell flying from its eight o’clock, directly into the crate of explosives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One minute, it’s keeping watch as ordered, and the next, it’s strewn across the hilltop in a disconnected array of wood bits and gears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Toy Soldier’s disembodied head studies the stars for a few hours as it gets its bearings, because being blown up by its own bombs is a startling experience! Hopefully some other Roses will come along soon, even if the war is destined to end after sunset—there have to be survivors. Someone will come along and pick up all its bits and pieces, and it’ll find its way back to the Aurora, to the ship that loves it and the crew that tolerates it and the only real home it’s ever known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It waits for three more days before the slightest sign of life stirs nearby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By then, wind and rain have blown its gears all over the hillside, to the point where it’s already mentally cataloguing how many parts it’ll have to replace once it’s cohesive enough to start looking. That all depends on who finds it—the Rose Reds are nice to it, but not particularly patient, whereas most of the Mechanisms couldn’t give less of a damn whether it’s missing a few gears. When the heavy </span>
  <em>
    <span>clunk </span>
  </em>
  <span>of steel-toed Cyberian combat boots crests the hill above it, the last of its hope dwindles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a mess,” Nastya scoffs, her hair falling across her face and dousing her in shadow as she stands over the Toy Soldier and examines its wreckage. “Rosies left you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I Was Under Strict Orders To Keep Watch,” it explains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The engineer frowns, then looks around with one finger tapping against her lip as if contemplating something. “So you got stuck on this hill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! I Believe It Was Friendly Fire That Blew Me Up. Those Poor Chaps To The South Don’t Have The Best Aim!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A crease appears between Nastya’s eyebrows. “That’s… unfortunate. If I help you pick up all your parts, can you tell me how to repair you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Toy Soldier can’t answer that for a long second, because it’s genuinely shocked into silence for once in its life. “I… Yes, I Know Where Things Go,” it manages at last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. We don’t have much time before Briar Rose wakes up, so we’ll need to hurry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why Are You Helping Me?” the Toy Soldier asks, as soft as its stolen voice will go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nastya </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. She hates living with it, performing with it, sitting in the same room as it; she certainly hates that her girlfriend is so deeply attached to it. When it heard her boots approaching, the Toy Soldier figured that it was as good as dead, because Nastya would sooner dump all its parts into a sun than help it out. It has no idea what to do with this new development.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, Nastya doesn’t bat an eye. “You may not be my favorite crewmate, but you’re still a gorgeous piece of machinery. Seems a shame to leave you like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s probably the nicest thing she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to say about it, and the Toy Soldier could ask for no more.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>short one today because I went on a Big Adventure and then came home and RESTRUNG MY GUITAR! SO I CAN PLAY IT AGAIN!!!!!! I'm in a very good mood tonight because of that, hence why I decided to make TS and Nastya play nice instead of just Hurting The Toy Soldier For No Reason.</p><p>and oOH I am so excited for tomorrow's prompt. &gt;:3c</p><p>I'm probably gonna stop cross-posting these to tumblr because it's a pain in the ass and it's not worth like, 2 notes, but you can still find me on tumblr @alderations and yell at me about spibuprofen again. For now... sleep tight. Think about being lovingly repaired by Nastya. Yearn.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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